A New Tale of Sweeney Todd
by captainbrig
Summary: Benjamin Barker was banished and Sweeney Todd returns. The events after his return however, are an entirely different story. Sweenett Multi-chap.
1. Chapter 1

Sweeney eyed his former home, slightly disgusted with how full it was. Well, at least, the downstairs of his home, where his landlords the Andrews lived and had their bakery. It seemed that someone had bought it and turned it into a meat pie shop. He curled his lip at the sheer amount of vermin in the little shop, eating, drinking and making merry. Reluctantly, he shuffled forward, taking a seat in a darkened corner. A woman, obviously, this Mrs. Lovett who now owned the place, flitted around tending to customers and making small talk as she served pies and ale. She looked an awful lot like… but no, it couldn't be…

He squinted, and was almost positive that this woman was indeed Eleanor Andrews, the beautiful young girl who lived below him with her parents, and who he had begun to court before he was exiled. He sat there and watched her until the shop was mostly emptied out, admiring how she'd changed over the years. She was more womanly, fuller in her curves and the dress she wore certainly accentuated that. He watched her curly auburn hair bounce as she started collecting dirty plates and carrying them to the sink. The last drunk staggered out the door, with her locking the door for the night.

She sighed, suddenly looking more tired, and rubbed a hand across her forehead. Sweeney accidentally bumped the foot of the table with his boot. She jumped, finally spotting him.

"Sir," she started, "I'm sorry but we're closed for the night."

He stood.

"Tell me something; are you Eleanor Andrews?"

She froze.

"W-Who are you?" she asked, backing away slightly. No one remembered her as that anymore. Everyone just knew her as Mrs. Lovett.

"An old friend. Well, friend is being modest," he replied, stepping out the shadows.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. The dark hair (oddly striped), and the lean body and pale face…he didn't look like anyone she knew… she took a closer look at his eyes. They flashed with the deepest brown, and one eyebrow arched as he looked at her.

Her jaw dropped, her hazel eyes widening.

"Benjamin?!"

He smirked.

"Yes. But it's Todd now. Sweeney Todd."

She felt her heart sink. Benjamin was home and here she was, married off.

"I-I, how did you escape?! Your sentence was for life!" she said, stepping closer.

"I managed," he mumbled darkly.

She suddenly caught her senses, and shook her head. "You- you have to leave, you need to go, before he gets back-," she said as she picked up his bag and shoved it against his chest, pushing him towards the door.

"He? Who he?" he asked as he stepped backwards as she wanted.

"My husband," she said, equal parts irritated and sad and fearful.

"You got married?!" he said incredulously, ignoring the pang in his chest that told him he was incredibly hurt by this.

"Not by my choice," she said brusquely.

"B-But, what about my old room, I have nowhere else to stay," he mumbled.

She stopped, stepping back to look at him, chewing on her lip the way she used to when she was thinking hard.

"Oh, alright. Just stay out of Albert's way, or else it'll be both our heads," she finally said, turning. She rummaged around in a drawer, muttering curses. Finally she stood and produced a ring of keys from her pocket, finally locating one and tossing it to him.

"Better get settled in, then. Dinner should be in about a half hour, that is if Albert's home by then," she said, turning and starting to pull out pots and pans from the cupboards.

He frowned and nodded, heading outside and trudging up the steps.

He had just finished placing all his belongings in the chest of drawers and vanity when he heard the shop door slam. He sighed and quietly stepped down the stairs, entering the little shop through the side door. A fat, pale and bald man was drunkenly making his way to the counter where Nellie was stirring a large pot of stew. He was so incredibly large that the buttons on his waistcoat were bursting out, and the short walk from the tavern down the road had him sweating bullets, the large droplets of sweat visible on his hairless head.

"Nellie, darlin'! Is my din'er ready yet?" he bellowed.

"Yes, Albert. Why don't you go sit and I'll serve you," she said, her eyes stubbornly glued to the churning stew as he leered over her. He nodded, and Sweeney was disgusted as he heard the audible slap on her bottom.

"Jus' like a good lit'le wife, eh, Ellie?" he laughed, making Sweeney's blood boil.

He plopped himself in a seat just as Sweeney stepped inside.

"Who the hell are you?" Albert growled, just as Nellie came over and set the hot bowl of stew in front of him.

"Albert this is Mr. Todd, our new tenant. He rented the room above," Nellie replied as she set two other bowls on the table.

Albert grunted. "Lord knows we need the extra money. You barely make enough these days, Ellie," he growled, shovelling stew into his mouth. "Just s'long as you keep yer hands offa my darlin' wife." He completed this with another pinch to Nellie's bottom.

She sat and started to eat silently, her eyes stuck to the table and her mouth set in a firm line. Albert finished eating, and belched loudly, patting his large stomach.

"I'm off to bed, Nellie, darlin'. Don' forget to join me," he said with a lecherous wink. "Remember my words, Mr. Todd."

As soon as he was gone, Sweeney muttered, "God, he's disgusting. Why is he even your husband?"

"I didn't choose him, if that's what you're saying," she snapped. "If you must know, my mother set us up shortly after you left. About a month, actually."

Sweeney looked at her sadly as she collected hers and Albert's bowls and walked over to where there was a stack of dishes waiting to be washed. After a minute, he steeled himself, pursed his lips and stood. He left his dishes on the counter and walked over to the door.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Lovett."

After he was gone, Nellie stood there for a good twenty five minutes, feeling tears come to her eyes. God, her life was a mess. She had a bastard for a husband, a business that was getting harder and harder to manage on her own, and to top it all off, the man she never stopped loving suddenly returned and is now living above her. Gathering her wits about herself, she began the long task of washing all the dishes and cutlery. She stared at the tall stacks, chewing on her lip. 'Ah well, hopefully by the time I'm done, Albert'll be asleep.'

When she was finally finished preparing everything for the shop the next day, it was close to eleven o'clock. With a long, weary sigh, she trudged to the bathroom and ran some water in the tub, not caring that it was cold. When she finished bathing she pulled on a thin white cotton nightgown and padded back into the parlour to soak up the warmth of the fire.

In the morning, Albert wasn't very happy with her for never joining him in bed. She managed to evade any kind of punishment by locking herself in the bathroom until she knew he had left for work.

XXX

He was beating her. He was positive that her goliath of a husband was beating her.

His suspicions began one morning when he came down for breakfast and saw her stretching for a spoon. In the process, her sleeve had pulled upwards, revealing the pale length of her arm. Except, it wasn't pale. A dark, suspiciously hand-shaped bruise decorated her thin forearm. When he asked about it, she had twittered nervously and tugged the sleeve down, making an excuse about needing to go put some pies in the oven in the bakehouse and had quickly fled the scene. A few nights after this had happened, he was positive that he heard someone cry out below him. The next morning, her lip was split and swollen. Every time he saw that behemoth of a man he felt his blood boil with hatred, so strong it was almost on par with his hatred for the Judge. He had even stopped dining with them, for fear that he would lose himself halfway through dinner and stab him with his fork.

One way or another, he knew he was going to be doing both himself and her a huge favour if he decided to get rid of him.

A/N: Thanks for reading and don't forget to review! I know Sweeney may seem kind of OOC, but I figured he might be different if he had never married Lucy. Also, in this story, he was banished for 'gandering at the Judge's fiancee', but I'll explain that later. Also, I figured that Sweeney would be like super against the abuse of women, hence the reason he's so protective of Nellie. Reviews are love!


	2. Chapter 2

XXX

A few weeks later, and Mr. Todd had fully settled into life above the Meat Pie shop, even opening his barber shop right above it. He had been toying with the ideas of reopening it, but then realized that he had absolutely no idea what had happened to his razors. He heard the sounds of someone on the steps, breaking his train of thought. A few seconds later, Nellie appeared.

"Hello, Mr. T. I brought you something," she said in that slightly husky voice of hers that made him go hot and cold at the same time and he needed to stop but didn't know how.

She pulled a slightly worn case from a cloth bag and held it out to him. "Albert thinks that when the police arrested you they nicked 'em. But I just hid 'em away because I knew he'd sell them," she told him.

He looked up in her eyes, astonished at the fact that she knew what he was thinking, and had even saved his razors for him. Then again, she had been the one to give them to him for his nineteenth birthday anyway, saving up weeks and weeks of her allowance, and foregoing a new dress she had been eyeing. That was okay, though, because he had secretly bought her the dress for her birthday after saving whatever he earned in his shop.

"Mrs. Lovett- no, Nellie. Thank you. Truly," he told her as he took the box, his fingers lingering on hers slightly longer than was proper.

"It was no problem love. Just had to hide them away in my stockings drawer," she said, mirth creeping into her tone.

He chuckled- actually chuckled! , before staring into her entrancing hazel eyes. She blushed as she looked at him, somehow unable to break the gaze. He found himself leaning closer, so close until their lips nearly touched, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, ready to receive his kiss.

The door downstairs suddenly opened and closed and she drew back sharply, all colour drained from her face. She shot him an apologetic look, before racing out the door and down the stairs. He sighed angrily and sat in the chair Albert had given him for his shop. It was probably the nicest thing the fat blob had ever done in his pitiful life. Minutes later, he heard raised voices. Good thing the shop is already closed, he thought to himself. Intrigued, he crept quietly down the stairs, and peered through the shop window. Albert was leering over Nellie again, and she stood there with her head bent submissively as he spoke harshly to her, spit flying all over the place.

Sweeney felt his anger growing as he continued to watch, Albert's voice now audible.

"Where are you hiding it, you little bitch?! I'm off to the tavern and this pittance you've given me is barely enough to afford more than three drinks!" he spat.

"It's all I made today, Albert, business wasn't good," Nellie replied.

"You lying little bitch! I know that your shop is one of the most popular eating places on this side o' London! So where are you hiding my goddamn money?! How about in this whorish dress of yours, huh?" he said venomously as he shoved his hand inside Nellie's bodice, ripping it. She cried out in surprise, desperately trying to defend herself.

"I should have known to never marry a lying, deceitful little cunt like you, Ellie," he growled harshly, before backhanding her across her face. She fell back on her stomach on the floor, the perfect position for Albert to rain kicks down on her sides, barely giving her the chance to curl into the fetal position to protect her head. Sweeney was nearly seeing red when Albert finally gave up and staggered out onto the street. He opened the door and immediately rushed to where Nellie was lying on the floor, crying quietly to herself. He gently touched her back, feeling her muscles tense. He soothed her lightly before scooping her gently into his arms and carrying her up to his shop and into his bedroom, where he lay her gently on his bed. She snuffled quietly, her eyes teary and bloodshot, a red mark on her cheek that was sure to darken into a deep bruise by the morning.

He went over to his basin and wet a cloth with some cold water and brought it back for her, gently pressing it against her cheek. She hissed slightly, but accepted his attempt to soothe the aching skin. He knew she would have bruises from where he had repeatedly kicked her. She blushed as he helped her to ease out of her dress, and then gently, ever so gently, he pulled his sheets around her and sat next to her, petting her hair and pulling out all the pins. The motions were so soothing that in a matter of seconds, Nellie had fallen asleep, snuggled against his side. He kept watch over her for the rest of the night, and when it was just breaking day, her wrote her a note explaining where he was, and then left his shop, making sure to lock his door behind him so no one else could enter.

Just as he was leaving, he was stopped by Albert. He schooled his face into indifference despite the disgust he felt when he saw him.

"Mr. Todd, have you seen my wife?" he snapped.

Mr. Todd frowned. "Not since yesterday, sir, when I came down at lunch to have a meatpie. Is something the matter?" he asked nonchalantly.

"No. I couldn't find her when I woke up," Albert replied.

"Perhaps she woke early and went to the market. I believe this is usually the day she goes. I'm heading there now, so I shall keep an eye peeled for you," Sweeney said to him.

"Of course, thank you, Mr. Todd," Albert said before retreating inside.

Mr. Todd sneered as he continued to the apothecary and not the market.

When he arrived, he asked the man at the counter, "I need something that will heal bruises easily, and if you've anything for scars too."

The man nodded and set two bottles on the counter. "Green label is for bruises, white is for scars. Apply three times daily," he said, "and that'll be six pounds."

Sweeney sighed at the amount of money, but reasoned that it was for Nellie and he didn't mind spending his money on her. On his way back, he stopped by a little bakery and bought them each some buns and pastries for breakfast. After that, he hurried home, afraid that Albert may have discovered Nellie hiding in his rooms.

When he arrived, he found the door still locked, and breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped inside, immediately locking the door again. He quietly crept into his bedroom, finding Nellie still asleep. She looked so beautiful lying there with the morning sun illuminating her skin and lighting up her auburn hair into fiery waves.

He sat on his bed gently, petting her hair again. "Pet, wake up," he murmured, cupping her face lightly between his two hands. He frowned when he saw the ugly bruise marking her cheek. She stirred lightly, and moaned as her eyes fluttered open.

"Mr. Todd? W-What am I doing in your bedroom?" she asked in sweet confusion, making his heart melt.

"I brought you up here after Albert beat you last night," he told her honestly, still gently stroking her uninjured cheek.

"Oh no, he's going to be looking for me, and when he finds me, well, let's just say if you thought last night was bad, then you haven't seen anything yet," she said sadly as she tried to sit up, only to wince when she felt a painful pulling in her sides.

"I don't care. I'm keeping you up here for the rest of the day. You need rest, pet. Come, I've brought us some breakfast and I went to the apothecary for something to heal that bruise for you," he replied sternly as he gently helped her to sit up, propping her up with pillows.

She blushed lightly. "You really don't have to go through all this trouble, you know," she murmured.

"Yes I do. I…I care about you, Nellie," he replied quietly, turning a light shade of pink.

She blushed even more, but he quickly tried to brush over the slightly awkward but tender moment by standing and retrieving his packages. He carefully handed her the one he bought in the bakery, and then went to put some tea on using his little stove in the corner. When it was finished he sat with her and ate as they sipped on their tea, and then he removed one of the bottles he had bought in the apothecary.

"He said you have to apply three times daily until it fades," Sweeney told her as he carefully poured some of the thick liquid onto his fingers and then gently rubbed it onto the bruised skin. She hissed in pain but bit her lip until he finished.

"At least this one smells nice. The last one I had like this smelled like the sewers," she said quietly. He chuckled and then on impulse, kissed her uninjured cheek. She blushed slightly, looking up into his deep brown eyes.

"D-Do you want me to do your sides too? Or can you get those yourself?" he asked her.

She looked down, realizing she was only wearing the slip she wore under her dress, having shed her dress and corset. She blushed before replying, "I believe I can get them. Thank you so much for everything, Sweeney," she told him, cupping his face with one small hand.

"It was no problem," he replied, reaching his own hand up to squeeze hers. She smiled slightly before he stood.

"I'm going to open my shop before Albert becomes suspicious. I'll come back to bring you lunch," he told her.

She nodded and settled back into his bed, still tired from the ordeal she was put through yesterday.

'I really have to get rid of that bastard,' Sweeney thought as he left the room.

**A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I hoped you liked this chapter, so gimme a shout if you did!**


	3. Chapter 3

XXX

Later that day, Sweeney snuck down into the pie shop and retrieved some stew that was in the icebox for lunch and brought it back upstairs for Nellie to eat. She was awake this time when he went in, and was reading a novel he had left on his bedside table. She looked up and smiled at him as he entered, carefully setting the tray with a full bowl of soup on the bed. She set the book aside as he sat next to her and looked up expectantly.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Just a bit," she replied with a small smile.

"Any better? Or still sore?"

"Still sore. It's no different though, I'll be better in a few days," she told him, as she shifted with a wince.

"Eleanor….answer me honestly. How long has this been going on? How long has that monster been beating you?" He asked her seriously as he sat on the bed next to her.

She shifted nervously, running her fingers over the sheets nervously and not looking him in the eye. She opened and closed her mouth multiple times, but she couldn't seem to get any words out. He gently laid a hand over one of hers.

"Please Nellie. I just want to help you."

"I was pregnant. Four months along, and we were both, for once in our marriage, happy. A little boy, I knew was in there. And then, one day, I slipped on some ice outside…" she paused as a sob wracked her body, "I'll never forget the feeling of my little boy's blood soaking my skirts and hands… And Albert…oh, he never forgave me, and the beatings just got worse. It's been happening ever since," she said softly. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands.

"Shh, Nellie, shh," he murmured, awkwardly holding her against his chest. Her warmth was unfamiliar and yet familiar at the same time. Part of him wanted to pull away, but he knew that she needed some sort of comfort. She snuffled against his shoulder and hugged him tightly.

"Here, why don't you eat, and then take a nap? I'm supposed to be getting back to work, but I'll come and check on you a little later, okay? Don't worry, Nellie. I'm going to get you out of this," he told her softly as he brushed his thumbs against her cheeks, wiping away her tears. She sniffed and nodded, ducking her head a bit. He sighed and in an uncharacteristic show of affection, he brushed a kiss against her head and stood to go back to his shop.

When he checked up on her at dusk, she was napping deeply. Unbidden, a smile touched his lips at he looked at her, and he quietly tiptoed into the room to pull up the sheet that she had accidentally kicked off. He heard a door slam downstairs and frowned deeply. He stood and crept quietly down the stairs, looking through the window to find a drunk Albert lumbering through the shop, calling rather loudly and menacingly, "ELLIE!"

Snarling, Sweeney opened the door, replacing his murderous expression with one of cool neutrality. Albert swung his great head around and squinted as his eyes focused on the tall lean figure standing in the doorway.

"Mr. Todd. 'Ave you seen m'wife?"

Mr. Todd smiled coldly, calculatingly. "Indeed, Mr. Lovett. I believe she went down to the bakehouse," Mr. Todd said in an icy tone.

"Oh, when I get m'hands on tha' lit'le bitch…" Albert muttered as he started to lumber down the hall and to the stairs leading to the bakehouse. Mr. Todd stalked him, his deep eyes watching him like a lion stalking its prey. Albert reached the top, swaying woozily as he stared down the steep steps.

"Oh, Mr. Lovett?"

"Huh?" the great beast asked, swinging his bald head around.

In a surprising show of strength, Todd seized the behemoth by the collar of his coat and dragged him closer, till they were a few inches away.

"Get yer hands offa me!"

"You will never, ever, lay another of your fat hands on Eleanor again. I hope you burn in hell for all the disgusting things you've done to her, and that you are tormented with worse for the rest of your pitiful existence," Sweeney snarled.

With that, Sweeney pushed the gigantic tub of lard, and, being so large and disoriented, Albert had no choice but to fall. He landed with a heavy thump and sickening crack on the hard stone floors below, not moving. With the eyes of a demon, Sweeney slowly trudged down the stairs. He put two fingers to the fat, almost nonexistent neck of the monster, satisfied when he felt no pulse.

"I'd say rest in peace, but where you're going, there can be no peace," he said, and with that, he turned on his heel and walked back up the stairs. Now just to get the Judge, he thought to himself, fingering the cold silver on his belt. He smirked when he thought about the Judge's blood spurting from between his fingers and splattering his face. Before he knew it, his feet had led him back to his bedroom. He looked at the broken woman in his bed and sighed, walking over quietly and gingerly scooping her into his arms. He descended the interior staircase and carefully carried her to her bedroom, laying her down gently and pulling the covers around her.

He pulled up a chair to her bed and sat in it, determined that he would watch over her, almost like the Guardian Angels watch over their charges. What an irony, he thought, I'm certainly no angel. But as he looked on at her sleeping form, he knew within his heart that he would never be able to forgive himself if something else happened to her.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews (although they've been few)! Don't forget to review this chapter! I know it was short, but I'm juggling writing and studying for exams. But yeah, review! I wanna know your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 4

XXX

Nellie woke in the morning feeling surprisingly well-rested. 'Probably all the sleeping I did yesterday,' she thought to herself as she stretched and gave a yawn. She rubbed her eyes and stood, making her way over to her wardrobe and pulling out a dress and all the appropriate undergarments. When she was finished, she fixed her messy curls into some semblance of order and headed down to the bakehouse in order to begin baking the pies for the day. When she was about halfway down, however, a strange, curious, lump at the bottom of the stairs made her pause. Frowning, she continued down, using her boot to turn it over.

Wide, blank and listless eyes stared up at her from the face of her husband. Blood had run from a gash on his forehead, drying in a red brown streak on his face. There was even a trickle coming from his mouth. Horrified, Nellie screamed and backed away, her heels catching on the stairs and making her fall backwards onto the steps. She scrambled up a few of them, her heart pounding and an icy fist clenching around her stomach. She suddenly heard frantic footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see Mr. Todd approaching. He gently helped her back on her feet. Instead of asking her what was wrong, however, he said, "I see you've found him, then?"

Her jaw dropped. "M-Mr. Todd? Did you murder my husband?"

He made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat. "Murder is such a strong word. He merely…took a tumble, and I didn't help him up," Sweeney replied with a shrug as he turned away from her slightly.

"Mr. Todd! What the hell is wrong with you?!" she said, her voice high and frantic.

"Me? I didn't think you'd miss the bloody lump of lard!" he retorted hotly.

"Yes, but what about when I have to call on the police? What do I say? Oh, sir, me tenant murdered my goddamn bloody bastard of a husband?!"

"Keep your voice down, woman!" he said to her, "and no, that's not what you'll say. You and Albert had a fight and he hit you. You were upset so you went to lie down after he left to go to the tavern. You fell asleep and only woke up this morning, by which time he was already dead and left you to assume that he had been so drunk when he came home that he didn't know his left from his right and fell down the stairs."

"And you? They're sure to ask you where you were," she said to him, her hands on her hips.

"Simple. I heard the two of you fighting, went out for a walk, came home and went to bed. Didn't see or hear nothin'," he replied with a shrug.

She sighed in exasperation, looking almost close to tears.

"Are you….upset?" he asked unsurely.

"No. It's just… a lot to take in," she replied, shaking her head.

"Alright. I'm going to go call the officers. Why don't you go sit upstairs, maybe make some tea?" he said to her, still looking rather cautious and unsure.

She nodded and he held out a hand to help her up the stairs, watching as she held a hand to her forehead delicately. He sat her on the couch gently, petting her hair once before leaving the little shop.

Nellie sighed shakily after he left. She still couldn't wrap her mind around it. Her…no, he wasn't her anything, not anymore. Mr. Todd, had killed Albert. Benjamin Barker, had killed a man. But then he wasn't Benjamin Barker anymore. His exile to Devil's Isle had truly changed him, she just hadn't seen it because of how gently and caringly he had looked after her. But still, he had killed Albert because he hated Albert. And he hated Albert because Albert had hurt her. So in essence, he still cared for her?

Nellie felt her head spinning and sighed as she rested her elbows on her knees and held her aching noggin between both hands. She shut her eyes and waited until Sweeney would return.

Meanwhile, Sweeney was entering the police station that was a few streets away from Fleet Street. The officer behind the counter looked at him indifferently as he approached.

"Can I help you sir?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes. My landlady's husband fell down some steps last night. He was drunk and everyone else in the house was sleeping. Nobody knew, so he died down there," Sweeney replied.

The officer scrutinized him for a moment. "Name of the deceased?"

"Albert Lovett."

"Of course. Lives on Fleet Street. Can you describe where you were and what happened yesterday?"

"My landlady and her husband were arguing, so I left not wanting to hear the shouting. I went for a walk in Hyde Park and stopped for some barbering supplies in the market afterwards. I returned home around seven o'clock, and it was quiet. I retreated to my rooms, ate some dinner and then went to bed. This morning I heard my landlady scream and rushed downstairs. Her husband was dead, and she was distraught. I tried to calm her and then came here," he told the officer, who was writing down his statement.

"And your name, sir?" the officer asked.

"Sweeney Todd."

The man nodded and stood. "Oy, Don, Eddie! One o' you run down to the mortuary and get a couple of those beefy fellows. Meet us down on Fleet Street. Lady's husband fell down the stairs and died," the officer called. Two other men, obviously Don and Eddie, stood and made their way over to Officer…Cromwell, if Sweeney was reading the man's tag correctly. They made their way back to Fleet Street, Sweeney taking out his key and unlocking the door. He showed the officers into the parlour where Mrs. Lovett was waiting.

Officer Cromwell sat next to Mrs. Lovett, who looked distraught, confused, and jittery.

"Mrs. Lovett, ma'am? Mr. Todd here says that your husband fell down some steps and died," he said to her.

"Yes," she said quietly, looking down at her wringing hands.

"What happened? Mr. Todd said that when he left yesterday you an' your husband were arguing. Did 'e give you this bruise?" Cromwell asked, pointing to the bruise on her cheek.

"Yes. We were arguing about money and Albert hit me. He was angry, so he left for the tavern. I was upset, and I went straight to bed. I guess he must have come home too drunk to have known his left from his right, because he was at the bottom of my bakehouse stairs this morning," she said softly.

Cromwell nodded. "Some men from the mortuary are gonna come take away his body. You can sort out a funeral afterwards, alright, Mrs. Lovett?"

She nodded, and Sweeney showed the men who had just arrived to the bakehouse stairs where the corpse of Albert Lovett lay. The beefy men from the morgue thunked down, rolling the fat lump onto a stretcher and covering him in a white sheet. Sweeney eyed them as they passed with him, taking him out to the wagon they had outside. The officers took their reports and said their condolences to Mrs. Lovett before leaving. Sweeney sighed as they left and sat next to Nellie on the couch.

She leaned into him, clutching his shirt.

"It's over…he can't hurt me anymore. It's all over," she murmured into his chest, feeling tears sting her eyes.

"Yes, pet. He's gone and he can no longer harm you," Sweeney replied, petting her hair and gently stroking his fingers over her bruised cheek.

"Thank you," she breathed, hugging him tightly.

XXX

A month after Albert's funeral, Nellie got terribly ill. She could barely hold down any food and had a mild fever. Unable to stand being sick anymore, she asked Sweeney to send for a doctor. He did, and now he was impatiently waiting for the doctor to return with his diagnosis. The door to her bedroom suddenly opened, and the doctor came out.

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Sweeney asked.

"She asked to speak to you, Mr. Todd, sir," the doctor said.

"Oh. Of course," Sweeny said, and paid the man before carefully opening the door.

"Mrs. Lovett?" he called softly. She looked startled, and her fingers were nervously running over her comforter. She couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"Mr. Todd…I…I'm…"

**A/N: Aaaaandd cliffie! Sorry, I'm just trying to lengthen the story a bit and keep you readers on your toes! ;) Anyway, thanks for all the great reviews and don't forget to review this chappie! I love hearing what you think about this story!**


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